Power of Music
by Existential Insanity
Summary: It brings us all together.  But this time around, it brought two unlikely people together and they fell in love.


A/N: Coz music is awesome. Don't own diddly

Rosario + Vampire - One Shot - Tsukune/Kokoa

Power of Music

Tsukune was terrified. He usually was. There was a lot to be terrified of. But it pretty much just boiled down to that everyone he interacted with was a monster of some sort.

His love life actually terrified him the most. He like all the girls who were vying for his attention. They were all special in someway and very attractive. And they were all monsters.

They would fight over him, sometimes literally, using their inborn powers. Maybe tha'ts why he hung out with Kokoa more and more as time wore on. She didn't like him very much. Just enough to tolerate him.

As much as she loved her sister, Kokoa was very independent and would often be by herself, studying or practicing something. She had been surprised when Tsukune began to spend far more time around her than his other friends.

"They won't think I'm hiding where you are," he would say when she asked why he was there.

A reasonable answer, Kokoa mused. He wasn't bad company, very quiet, and as long as it wasn't math generally very knowledgeable. He'd occasionally help her and in return she'd let him hide out.

One day he brought a biwa(1) along with him.

"Shhhhhhh," he told her, "The girls don't know I play. You're the first I've shown."

She asked him why the girls didn't know.

He shrugged.

"They never asked."

But neither had she, was her next point.

"With you, is the only time I could get enough peace to play. I'm not bad, but I haven't played in a while so I hope you can tolerate it for today."

His playing was unbelievable. Kokoa felt his emotion through his music, and that's what made it hard for her to study. She felt compelled to listen to the story being played for her.

His fear, his joy, his depression, his triumph. All of it told through his music.

She informed him that she would keep the biwa so the other girls wouldn't find out and she'd bring it everyday. She then asked if he played anything else.

He smiled at her, and unlike all the other times before, his smile made her heart flutter.

"Yes, but all traditional instruments. I rather like it that way. I feel more connected to the culture of my ancestors."

She understood that. Kokoa always wanted to feel like she knew the famous people of her family's past. And she had no real way, until she found her paternal grandmother's journal. It had been fascinating and personal.

Kokoa loved her dead grandmother more than anyone else.

Tsukune brought all of his instruments next time save the Koto(2). It was rather large and cumbersome. Shakuhachi(3), shamisen(4), and sho(5) were the instruments he played for her besides the biwa.

He made such beautiful music. He looked so peaceful playing it. And he only played for her.

She surprised him, when she brought and played an old violin. It was her grandmother's, Oma(6) had learned to play it shortly before her death. Kokoa had learned to play it for a similar reason Tsukune did. Kokoa wanted to feel closer to the grandmother she'd never meet but loved dearly.

The two made music together. Their feelings poured into each and every note.

Eventually the feeling of attraction and budding love entered their music.

Take me out, she'd ask him gently, only to be refused. Time and time again. Never pushing or forcing. Just a request, that she asked him often.

"I don't want to ruin what we have. That's why I can't be with any of you."

Then one day he didn't show up. Kokoa had something else to show him that day, something special. And he never showed up, no matter how long she waited.

So Kokoa asked her sister where Tsukune was.

The hospital was the answer. Their last adventure had put Tsukune in the hospital and in a coma. They didn't know when he would wake up.

Kokoa went and gathered her things. She had something to show Tsukune. And she'd show him everyday until he saw it.

Everyday she would visit for weeks. To be show him. She had gone to great lengths to procure what she had. Kokoa had found it for him and for the two of them. It would be what brought them together.

The other girls had been there everyday in the beginning. Moka was surprisingly the first to stop appearing so frequently. Kurumu, the last. Until only Kokoa believed he would wake up.

She grew frustrated of just showing him what she had found. Kokoa was going to pull out the stops. She placed a call to his mother and went from there.

Mrs. Aono finished putting the final touches on Kokoa. She smiled softly at the girl.

"You are such a pretty girl, and doing this for my Tsukune. Why are you doing this?"

She looked Mrs. Aono in the face and said firmly: "Because I want him to be MY Tsukune."

That was enough for the mother of Tsukune.

Tsukune woke slowly to soft singing and the playing of a koto. He opened his eyes slowly and blearily looked around him. His vision began to clear as his eyes settled on the source of the music.

It was Kokoa. She was playing his koto, and wearing his favourite kimono that belonged to his mother. Her hair was done up in a simple traditional style. All in all she was breath-taking to Tsukune.

"Kokoa," he croaked. The blues and pinks of cherry blossoms falling on a clear day filled his vision as the ecstatic voice of Kokoa filled his ears. A nurse was called for as Kokoa began to cry how happy she was that he was awake.

Tsukune weakly hugged her back and breathed in her scent. He felt whole and could begin to heal with the woman he loved.

FIN

1) A lute like instrument. Vaguely like a guitar.

2) A large harp kinda. Its set up like a harp on its side and on a table. But a bit different.

3) One foot Eight. Very similar to a recorder.

4) Only the Japanese would be so crazy as to play a spike fiddle with a pick instead of a bow. All violins are spike fiddles, but not all spike fiddles are violins.

5) Similar to a harmonica, but round and with pipes like an organ.

6) German for grandmother.


End file.
